


Who would you rather?

by Occula



Category: U2
Genre: Drinking Games, Games, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 17:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13931601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Occula/pseuds/Occula
Summary: The guys sit around having a few beers and playing Who Would You Rather. Some truths come out.





	Who would you rather?

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ Jan. 27, 2007.

“Who’s ready?” Larry asked as he stood, rather unsteadily.

Adam tilted his bottle to ascertain the beer level. “I am, thanks.”

“Sure,” Bono said from one of the two moderately uncomfortable hotel chairs, occupied with unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves evenly.

Edge, next to him, shook his head yes too. “Still your turn,” he called after him as Larry went to the little refrigerator on the far side of Adam’s spacious room. He came back with four fresh beers and handed them around before dropping back to the spot where he’d been sitting at the head of the bed, leaning on an immense stack of Adam’s pillows.

“Well?” Adam asked; he was perched on the foot of the big bed, shoes off.

“Okay. I have one. Elle MacPherson or Claudia Schiffer.”

“Oh, Claudia,” Bono said immediately, at the exact moment Edge said “Elle MacPherson, of course.” This struck them both as funny.

“Claudia Schiffer,” Larry said over their laughter.

Adam nodded. “Claudia,” he agreed. “My turn?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, ah … let’s see … Bette Midler or Barbra Streisand.”

“What!” Larry almost shouted.

“Oh, Adam, really,” Edge protested.

“What?” Adam countered, all innocence.

“Well,” Bono said. “If there were a gun to my head …”

“Vat of boiling acid,” Larry continued.

Edge broke up laughing again. “Really, it doesn’t matter whether the acid is boiling or not,” he pointed out.

“Bette Midler,” Bono muttered reluctantly. “For the conversation.”

Larry frowned. “Barbra Streisand, I suppose,” he said. “That’s a tough one, though. Edge?”

“Boiling acid,” Adam added helpfully.

“Bette Midler,” Edge shrugged. “I can’t get my mind around that one. My turn? Christie Turlington or Naomi Campbell?”

“Bastard,” Adam slurred, already blushing, failing to point out that he’d managed not to answer his own question of a moment ago.

“Easy for you, you’ve got a secret crush,” Bono teased.

“Fuck off,” Adam muttered again.

“It’s not a secret,” Larry added. “Naomi’s sooooo dreamy,” he sighed dreamily.

“Naomi,” Bono said. “If that’s all right, Adam.”

“Really, do fuck off,” Adam suggested.

“Christie,” Larry said.

“Naomi,” Edge said, flipping his heavy ponytail back as he stood up.

“Please?” Bono waved his beer bottle.

“A round, Edge,” Larry requested. “Adam, you didn’t answer?”

Adam sighed. “Naomi Campbell,” he said, with as much dignity as he could. “Bono, your turn? If we’ve done mocking me, that is.”

Bono thought about it until Edge had come back with their drinks. “Young Frank Sinatra, or young Elvis?”

“Bono!” Edge laughed.

“Fuck off,” Larry said in turn.

“Frank,” Adam said.

“What? How’d you choose so fast?” Larry demanded.

“Well, Elvis is yours, so …”

“Fuck OFF.”

“Frank,” Bono agreed.

“Elvis,” Edge said. “If I must.”

“Don’t make me say it,” Larry laughed. “All right, all right, Elvis. Okay, _fine_. Captain Kirk or Mr. Spock?”

Edge, who’d been taking a drink, choked a little as they all howled with laughter.

“Spock,” Bono said, grinning.

“Kirk,” Edge chose in the same moment.

“Spock, I think,” Adam said. “A bit of a challenge. You, Larry?”

“Shit, I forgot I’d have to choose too. Whose idea was this … Spock,” Larry confessed.

“Gavin or Paul?” Adam asked.

“Oh, Adam!” Edge protested, making a disgusted face.

“Gav,” Bono said promptly.

“Gavin,” Adam agreed, wondering, not for the first time, what Bono was thinking.

“Couldn’t I choose the boiling acid? … All right, all right, Gavin,” Larry gave in.

“Acid,” Edge said.

“Come on,” Bono prodded.

“Gavin,” Edge grumbled. “Fine, then, Adam or Bono?”

They all froze for a moment, disbelieving.

“Larry?” Edge prompted with a mysterious little smile. “Adam, or Bono?”

“Edge,” Bono began, but Edge made a shushing gesture. Adam leaned back a little, assuming a slightly more nonchalant posture, intrigued.

Larry blushed just a little, looked down at his beer, picked at the label for a second, then looked up, meeting Edge’s eyes directly. “Adam,” he said, simply.

Edge nodded, and Bono murmured, “ _That_ question won’t do for the rest of us, you know.” His comment broke Edge’s stare and left Larry unsure where to look, but Adam reached back to lay a hand on Larry’s denimed ankle, tilting his head to catch his eye.

“Thanks,” Adam whispered. “Me, too.”

Larry, miserable and glad, nodded. “I, maybe we can talk about it, I mean later.”

“I’d like that.”

“Adam?” Bono asked. “Any point in asking you: Larry or …”

“None whatever,” Adam said, gratified to see the tense set of Larry’s shoulders ease a little.

“Edge?” Larry asked. “Me, Adam, or Bono?”

“Well, if you must know,” Edge said with comic tipsy dignity. “Bono, of course.”

“Big surprise,” Adam startled himself by saying; it earned him a _shut up_ nudge on the leg from Larry’s foot.

“Bono?” Larry said.

To Adam’s surprise, and Larry’s too, Bono said, “He knows.”

Adam exchanged a gape with Larry, and the other two laughed at their astonishment.

“ _We’ve_ had this conversation before,” Edge grinned.

“You’re kidding,” Larry said.

Adam cracked up laughing, suddenly understanding. “You worked it into the game, the conversation, on purpose to let us know and find out – as though we’d mind –” His confusion of feeling was too much to contain; he hopped up to give Bono a bear hug, and Bono hopped up to return it.

That broke the ice, and Larry and Edge hugged amid laughing and backslapping, then they swapped so Adam could hug Edge and Larry hug Bono. While they were at it, they switched again; Bono hugged Edge, and Adam saw how his arms lingered low around Edge’s waist, how Edge blushed a little. No time to stare, though; he was hugging Larry, the new awareness between them making them awkward.

He pressed forward to speak softly into Larry’s ear. “Stay after they leave so we can talk?”

Just for a moment, Larry’s arms tightened, and he held him hard as he nodded.


End file.
